


Never and Nowhere

by luna65



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Codependency, F/M, No actual sex, POV Multiple, Period Typical Attitudes, Quasi-incest, allusions of Courtly Love, just lots of tragic romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 13:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17204405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luna65/pseuds/luna65
Summary: AU - imagine that "Sail Away Sweet Sister" is about exactly what you might think it is.





	Never and Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> This one really deserves to be a longer story but it is what it is, and it wanted to be written. I know fans have different theories regarding what that song is about but this is meant to be a very narrow literal interpretation. And as an AU it contains a Brian who is much like Actual Brian but not entirely.
> 
> I completely understand that some may be squicked out by this regardless, but I really meant to frame it in more of a Courtly Love type of portrayal.

“...and, since people who devote themselves to goddesses must exercise some caution about the ones to whom they are devoted, they neither chose them by the passing standards of the flesh alone, nor abandoned it lightly when the bruckle thing began to fail.”  
-T.H. White, _The Candle in the Wind_

 

Their shared life in the manor house was charmed in a particular way. It was a dream of mutual education and discovery, a world known only to their curious eyes. He recognized and mourned their fortunate cabal as he toiled in the city, gaining knowledge, chasing achievement and pining for their pastoral idyll. He laid awake in a bedsit listening to communal murmurings and traffic and thought of his sister fast asleep in her luxurious bed, one of their many cats stretched by her side, a peaceful night beyond the windows of that hallowed abode. A nightingale trilling exquisitely liquid as the moon rose and the landscape shone like molten silver.

In younger years when he had lain ill for many months he recalled that she slept alongside him despite their mother’s admonishments.

“But what if he needs me?” she had asked. And his response, unspoken, was not _what_ but _when_. And _always_.

 

 

Of late he had been away so very long, too long. Had conducted his work which would determine his status in the world with a heavy heart, longing for her. Writing to her every day and mailing one lengthy letter a week, wondering what she was doing when they reached her. He pictured her walking to their letter box every morning, hoping for word from him. And now he was returned, his experiments a success, and had told their mother he wanted to surprise her.

She sat reading in the grand parlour by the picture window which looked out into the rose garden. He carefully tiptoed up behind her, rubbing his cheek against hers. She started with a gasp, nearly dropping her book.

“Oooh, that tickles! Bri, you’re home? You’re home! Why didn’t you tell us?!” She hugged him with the fierce intensity he had been craving lo those interminable months in far-off exile. He didn’t let go but looked down at her with a grin.

“So what do you think of the whiskers?”

She looked up at him and frowned. “You look far too scruffy, Bri, and why is that?”

“Didn’t have the energy for shaving, all the way up on the mountain.”

“Well you’re back to civilization now, aren’t you?”

He took hold of her arm, rubbing his chin against the sensitive inner portion, and she giggled again.

“I think I look rather dashing like this.”

“ _Deranged_ , perhaps.”

Brian pouted and she wagged a finger at him.

“Don’t pout!”

“But I like it.”

She shrugged. “Do what you like, of course, but you’ve got such a sensitive noble face. The whiskers spoil it, I think.”

He took her in his arms again, firm but gentle. “So you’ll love me less, then?”

She leaned into his embrace, placing a hand on his chest as she looked up into the eyes which mirrored her own. “Never! Just don’t expect any kisses from me, is all.”

He sighed and released her. “That settles it, then.”

He turned and left the room but knew that she was smirking, smug in her triumph.

 

“And what is **that** , young lady?”

She shrugged, gesturing towards the tangle of clothing on her bed. “Had a bit of shopping is all.”

“I mean _this_ ,” he took hold of her chin and pointed her face at its’ reflection in her vanity mirror.

“I’m eighteen, absolutely old enough to wear makeup now.”

“I bet Mum didn’t say you were old enough to paint yourself up like a tart!”

“It’s just a bit of lipstick!”

“ _Too_ much - wouldn’t you rather have that look like your lips have been bruised by kissing? Or sharing wine with your lover? Something a bit more natural?” His voice was low and teasing and he stood behind her, running his thumb across her lower lip. “Just a touch for that lovely mouth is all you need.”

She took hold of his wrist, and rested his hand against her neck. He shivered at the feel of her pulse upon his palm.

“No more lectures, brother mine. You know I’m not that sort.”

“It seems like only yesterday we were running about the garden, pretending we were piloting the _Anastasia_ to Venus.”

“I was the alien!” she said, grinning, “Because **you** always had to be Dan Dare.”

“Well naturally. But you could have been the First Girl in Space, luv.”

“There’s nothing wrong with growing up, even if we’re not playing pretend.”

“I think we still might, just in different ways.”

He had a way of letting his head hang down and looking up at her through his lashes, a shy sly smile giving her that golden treacle in her veins feeling once more. He knew intimately how she reacted to his attentions.

“Always,” she whispered.

 

They lay by the fire in the study, within a soft nest of pillows and blankets, his shortwave radio playing faintly in the background, voices and music from other lands drifting over their heads. She had been reading to him, one of their enduring favorites - _The Once and Future King_. But it didn’t matter to him what she read, the sound of her voice filled him with longing like the glow of dusk and the scent of the garden after the heat of the day, a perfume lingering, coming in through the windows as they dined by candlelight and sang the songs they had known all their lives.

All their lives they could not recall being alone, ever and only to look into the eyes of the one they knew as well as the evidence of their own existence.

 

Change was incremental, and there were some changes which disturbed him even as he knew it was the natural order of things. But more for the angst - present and future - they were likely to bring rather than the cost of his own feelings. The days in which she now had to hide away, and although their mother said to leave her be, he wanted, as always, to take care of her.

He tapped on her bedroom door softly - their private knock - and heard a voice strained with pain bid him entry. He gave her a smile of warmth and sympathy, and she managed the ghost of one in reply.

“What’s wrong then, old girl, are you sore today?”

She lay abed, so very pale, her eyes looking almost bruised from the dark smudges beneath them. She nodded weakly.

“Hurts so bad I can’t even walk.”

He sat next to her on the bed and stroked her hair.

“My poor darling. Can I get you anything? Do you need more hot water for your bottle?”

“Mum just refilled it. I’m gagging for some choco, but it gives me spots.”

“You haven’t a spot on you, silly thing. Your skin is the envy of all your friends.”

“You haven’t seen me lately, brother mine.”

“Well then, let’s have a look, shall we?” He smoothed her hair away from her face and leaned down. She closed her eyes and he ran his calloused fingertips across her skin, petal-soft, and studied it though it wasn’t necessary - he knew her face better than his own.

“Dearest, there’s not a spot to be seen, I swear it.”

“But I can _feel_ them, just waiting to pop out!”

“Not here -” a kiss upon her forehead, “- nor here -” a kiss upon the tip of her nose, “- or here-” a kiss upon her chin. He hovered, his face mere inches from her own, and closed his eyes, scarcely daring to breathe.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, “and don’t you dare contradict me, girl.”

She gave a tiny sigh, and then a gasp. His eyes flew open in panic.

“Did Mum give you something for the pain?”

“Chamomile tea, that’s all.”

“I adore the woman but this is the 20th Century! I’ve some paracetamol in my rucksack. One tablet should put paid to those nasty cramps.”

“Thanks Bri.”

“I’ll fetch you some chocolate in the village - a Dairy Milk, alright?”

“Yes please.”

“We’ll share it then, so as to alleviate your worries.”

“I’ve ravening, so I suggest you get two, just in case.”

He grinned, the smile which never failed to squeeze her heart. “Duly noted.”

 

Brian had boarded the train right after his last lecture, eager to be home and surprise her for the weekend. He thought they might have a nice long walk the next day if the weather cooperated, bring along a picnic lunch and his field guides for whatever might be spotted along the way.

He found his bicycle in the station’s stalls and readied himself for the ride to the manor house, slowly pedaling his way down the market road, when he saw her with a couple of her friends. They were seated on the low wall outside The Fox and Goose talking to a group of boys.

_Boys_ might be an incorrect designation, they looked rather older than that. 

He was on the other side of the road and she was distracted and thus did not spot him. He stopped, making certain he was off the road first, and stared as annoyance collected in his stomach, acidic and heavy. But she with no knowledge of being observed, he could see it now: she truly was _beautiful_ , beautiful enough that no one in the world could ignore it, her dark wavy hair glinting in the light of the afternoon with a dusky shine, her eyes wide and teasing and their gaze so enchanting to anyone looking into their forest-like depths. Her perfect nose and her pleasing mouth. The ring of her laughter and her voice, high and flirtatious. 

And he had always thought her beautiful, in a distant admiring way. Treated her as the greatest treasure in their realm. Sworn to protect her always. 

One of these young men stepped up, stood over her, and his looming posture caused something within Brian to snap. He wheeled his bike across the road and into their grouping. He called her name and her eyes widened to see him. 

“Bri! You didn’t tell us you were coming home at the weekend!” 

“Last-minute decision. Shall we go to the market and fetch whatever Mum might need for supper?” 

She understood it wasn’t a casual inquiry. She said her goodbyes to the others and they walked in the direction of the grocery, Brian pushing his bike. 

“Who were those blokes?” he asked. 

“Just some guys we knew at school.” 

“And the one who looked ready to wolf you down whole?” His voice was tight, he swallowed hard, attempting to regain control, calm the red-hot pulse of jealousy within him. 

She made a breathy sound of derision. “He’s nobody, just one of the boys at my school.” 

“Nobody as in I don’t _need_ to know, or you don’t _want_ me to know?” 

“Don’t be silly!” 

“The three of you looked like cats in heat, perched there.” 

She stopped her stride, and her face was immediately pinched, pale with rage. 

“How _dare_ you say that!” 

He leaned his bike against a nearby building and came to stand nearly nose-to-nose with her upon the cobbles. 

“I say it because _I know_ about boys like that.” 

“ _Of course_ you do, I’ve seen you flirt with Lucy and April at the Grangers’ when you think I’m not paying attention.” 

“I am **not** predatory! Though I know the type well enough.” 

“And you have to let me live, Bri. I’m old enough to make up my own mind about things.” 

“I couldn’t stand it if someone broke your heart. I’d want to murder them.” 

She put her hands on his arms, felt him vibrating with the intensity of his emotions. 

“Sssh,” she soothed. “No more of this; let’s go on and see if they’ve got everything for a fish pie then, right?” 

He nodded, delivering a soft kiss upon her forehead. She skipped along ahead of him, her skirt swaying with the motion of her step. 

“So very convenient that I can ride your bike back home!” she teased and he pursed his lips in mock-annoyance. 

“Yeah that’s old Bri, eh? Always left in the dust of Sissy’s schemes!” 

 

“You haven’t played for me in _ages_ ,” she said. 

They had been silently working on a puzzle as the sky thundered and the rain pelted and filled up the long afternoon. 

He shrugged. “You haven’t asked me to in _ages_.” 

Her answering stare was hard, and he matched it. The moment lingered, and neither of them softened, it was more like when the sea hits the rocks - natural force and unyielding creation. But rocks are shaped by water, and water seeks its’ level. 

And then, because he didn’t think he could stand another minute of the cold distance in that gaze, he surrendered, leaving the room and returning with his guitar. 

“Any requests?” he asked, tuning up. 

“You know the one,” she replied. 

_On such a breathless night as this_  
_upon my brow, the lightest kiss_  
_I walked alone._

She closed her eyes and smiled, and he smiled back at her unseen, assured of the place he inhabited in her fantasies. He sang of the doomed romance they both craved, coloring her imagination as he walked beside her within it. 

 

The night was balmy, they lay side-by-side upon a sturdy wool blanket in the back garden, away from the trees, the sky blessedly clear and dark as it was the cycle of the New Moon. They took turns looking up at the stars with the aid of binoculars. 

“We’ll be seeing particles which have existed for a thousand years,” he told her, his voice hushed with wonder. 

“Do the meteors all burn up when they fall through the atmosphere?” she asked him. 

“Mostly. Some might survive in minute form. I’ve seen a few in the Science Museum.” 

“What are you going to wish for?” 

“What are _you_ going to wish for?” 

“I asked you first!” 

“Can’t tell your wish, can you, because then it might not come true.” 

“A thousand years. Think about all the things which have happened in that time.” 

“I have. The dust I’ve been studying, the grains of the stars, it may be ten thousand years old.” 

“Just drifting out there forever, over our heads.” 

“Longer than we can possibly comprehend.” 

“But you will suss it out, that’s what you’re looking to do.” 

“Just a very small piece of it.” 

He handed her the binoculars, taking pleasure in her gasps upon spotting a meteor. When they began to fall thick and fast she took the lenses from her eyes and lay open-mouthed with awe at the sight. He moved closer and placed a kiss at the corner of her mouth. 

“I love you longer than the Universe has existed,” he whispered in her ear, “from before time and space, when everything was nothing.” 

Even in the dark she felt the weight of his gaze, the truth of his words glowing white-hot as the afterimage of a piece of relative eternity plummeting down to meet their infinitesimal selves. 

She kissed him back, only once, and their wishes burned up in the atmosphere of their mutual obsession. 

 

The moon had waned within another night, the chill had arrived, but he would not leave her side. He sat on the floor by her bed wrapped up in her favorite cashmere blanket, their cat Rascal curled in his lap. She lay in the bed, one hand fingering his thick silky curls, the other hand held tightly within his own. 

“If we lived in some other universe, would you love me?” 

“I love you in this one.” 

“You know what I mean. Would you be mine?” 

“If you belonged to me.” 

“I have, always. At any intersection of space and time I will _always_ be in love with you.” 

“Then yes, I would.” 

It was said with a secret squirming thrill she knew she could not revoke, but as it was absurd it seemed easy to make impossible statements, impossible promises. 

He sighed. “No, I shouldn’t say that, I don’t mean to hold you captive in my madness.” 

“Don’t you **ever** deny it,” she replied, low and fierce. 

“You’ll have your own life someday, just as you like.” 

“As will you.” 

“Only half a life without you, my sweetheart.” 

She closed her eyes, focusing on the feel of their fingers and palms merging, connected, co-existing. 

 

“I don’t see why you should have to go away just now,” he told her. She cringed at his look of misery once she had shown him the letter. “My thesis is almost complete - just a few months of research to finish, and then I can come with you.” 

She felt tears come forth, she felt the ache of the agony behind his words, but also knew that they couldn’t prolong this torture. Each day they moved closer to a decision, an action, which they would regret. 

“We can’t go on like this,” she said, her voice flat and hushed. “It’s why I applied to universities outside the country.” 

“You can’t stand the sight of me now, is that it?” 

The tears fell hot and quick. “ **Never** doubt that I love you. But I’m afraid. I’m afraid one day I’m not going to be able to find the strength to live my own life.” 

His tears emerged as well and they held each other, crying, for what seemed a very long time. 

 

For many years she had lived within sight of the sea and enjoyed a daily walk beside its’ expanse, soothed by its’ rhythms and fascinated by the endless shift of colors and light. 

Distance mitigated the enduring tether connecting them - she could talk to her brother in their particular way just as long as there was an ocean between them. Once he had received his doctorate he had accepted a position at Jodrell Bank as she and their mother had expected him to. He also taught part-time, classes in advanced cosmology and astronomy. She had not returned to their childhood home, equally finding solace in the focus of academia, as had been expected of her. 

Neither of them had truly fallen in love, but not for lack of trying. Relationships had flowered, then soured, and they each tried again. 

He had told her she could return, he would always be there for her when someone broke her heart. He would do nothing but give her the unconditional love she deserved. _Because they will_ , he said, _no one else contains all the love I have for you._

Now, in the wake of decades, she imagined that Love came with conditions for good reason. It was a useful lie to tell herself. 

Sometimes, when she had occasion to view the night sky, she recalled his first wedding, it had taken place during the annual Perseid shower. And when the reception wound on and the hour was late, he had coaxed his new bride and various guests outside to view it. Their patience was thin due to fatigue and excess but eventually rewarded. 

With each moment, each fiery streak painting the deep void above them, she felt the heat of his words, the tragic longing of that one kiss. She looked at him and found him looking at her, even as he was in the embrace of another. 

In that particular intersection of time and space, with so many years stretching between their youthful foolishness and the cold reality of now, another universe seemed to float and shimmer within their forbidden enduring gaze. 


End file.
